Harry Potter and the Morana Thread
by TheChariot
Summary: When Winter and Death descend, Harry must once more battle dark forces. Unfortunately this time, he is one friend short. Can Harry stand triumphant against the evil around him, helped only by the few loyal to him? PostHogwarts, Book 5 Canon


**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter, yadda yadda, you all know the drill, now lets pretend for a moment that this pointless disclaimer was never here!

**Authors Note: **Thanks for tuning into my Post-Hogwarts and now unfortunately Alternate-Universe fiction – as book 6 canon was excluded, because I started writing this last winter and adapting the canon would ruin the whole story. Oh well, I use, up to book 5 canon, which is the best stuff anyway, haha.

Rated M for violence

Harry/Hermione is the primary relationship explored

**Chapter 1: **Where Blood and Fire Bring Rest

The sun floated lazily in the sky this mid-august morning; casting short shadows along the walls of this peculiar home. The appearance aside; and it had a particularly abnormal character at that - any number of remarkable things could be seen, heard, smelled and touched _inside_. A small banging, followed by a child's yelp alerted a pair in the dining room, that they'd soon be joined by a third individual.

Mummy! Mummy!' came a young voice.

Harry Potter carefully placed his mug down on the table and watched as a small redhead, just over five years old, came barrelling into the dining space, and ran headlong into an older redheaded woman. Harry watched as the boy clawed at his mother's apron and attempted quite unsuccessfully to convey the problem, though Harry was sure it was the same one that arose every time he visited the Weasley's.

Mummy, the ghoul, the ghoul, he, he…' the boy stopped midway through his sentence, seemingly rethinking what it was he was doing. He released his grasp on the woman, glanced back at the stares from whence he came, and bolted back in that direction.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the child's fascination with the creature in the attic. So he's still trying to capture the ghoul is he? Has he advanced from cardboard boxes yet?'

Oh yes, he came to me on Thursday and insisted I lend him my jewelry box. He thought that if I kept what trinkets I had inside, he could _lure_ the Ghoul in with promises of shiny gifts. I'm pretty sure it's the ghoul who's playing around though; I found Will, trapped inside one of the many empty boxes up there.'

Harry smiled outwardly, and watched the woman busy herself with cleaning the dishes. He took the silence as an opportunity to get a look at the household clock. The clock in question showed not the time, but the location of family members, represented by clock arms with faces on each individual one. Harry noticed all but one of the six hands was pointed at work.

You know Molly, these family gatherings don't seem to be as family oriented as they used to be.'

Mrs. Weasley sighed, I know Harry dear. Charlie's absence is easy enough to understand, being as far away as he is; but the twins cant seem to separate themselves from the shop; Arthur has been having trouble with Angus Fairweather again (Honestly, wont he ever learn!), and was asked in early this morning for questioning, and Ginny -'

You still haven't heard from her?'

Molly sat roughly in a chair across from Harry and rested her forehead tiredly in the palm of her hand, Not since last time, no,' clearly wanting to change the sway of conversation, the red haired woman turned the questions on Harry. And what about Hermione, shouldn't she be here by now?'

Yeah, she had to stop off at her dad's house to pick up some of her old things. She's probably busy worrying herself sick about him.'

Harry took another sip of tea from his mug and waited patiently for Molly's array of questions that she ineloquently managed to bring into conversation every Sunday. Following his graduation from Hogwarts, she'd had the distinct impression she'd never see any of her kids again and as such, took the initiative to make Sunday morning a weekly get together for everyone. Over the years it had managed to slip in and out of actually occurring, and right now it was in a state of disarray for no particular reason.

So; happy you finally broke down and asked her?'

Harry shook his head at the expected train of conversation.

Yeah, mind you I had little idea of how to bring that up into a conversation, so it didn't go particularly smooth. I must have looked like a complete moron, but it all worked out in the end, so…'

It should be nice to have her that close,' Molly added.

Harry shrugged, She spent most nights over regardless, so having her properly move in just seemed like the logical next step.'

Any thoughts on marriage?' Molly said very quickly while averting her eyes. Harry laughed out loud.

One proposal at a time Molly,' Harry smiled. I don't wanna scare her off by moving too fast or anything.'

I somehow doubt that will be a problem,' Molly said, rolling her eyes as she did.

Harry was spared from going into this discussion for what must have been the thousandth time by the front door opening, and the sound of Hermione calling for him. Harry rose from his chair and greeted her with a quick kiss, before leading her back to the table for some tea.

Sorry I'm late Molly,' she began. But my dad was being impossible; he seemed positive he'd never see me again.'

Don't worry about it dear; Harry and I were just talking Quidditch.'

Harry grimaced at the obvious lie; he could tell Hermione knew damn well they hadn't been talking about Quidditch, but she ignored it.

Where's Will? It's odd not to hear him,' Hermione smirked as she sat down.

Harry took her hand in his, lacing his fingers with hers and tuned out the conversation. Will, the young, redheaded, freckle faced Weasley was a spitting image of their friend Ron. Harry was sure if he had a side-by-side comparison they'd be as identical as Fred and George were. The boy did come with his own array of complications however; for example he wasn't in fact Molly's son, but rather Ron's.

Harry remembered that day distinctly. It had infact been one of the Sunday breakfasts at the Burrow. The entire remaining Weasley clan including Hermione and himself had been sitting around in various stages of the meal, when the doorbell rang. For reasons Harry couldn't recall, George was voted into answering it, and not a moment after opening the door everyone in the dining room heard a distinctive curse yelled across the house. There on the front step, wrapped in a small bundle of blankets rested who is now known as William P. Weasley.

The lot of them had exhausted as many resources as possible in trying to find the mother, not for anyone's benefit but Ron's. He'd been thoroughly disgruntled at having parenthood thrown at him like that; though Harry privately thought Ron was the only one at fault, getting involved with random women in the way he had. Throw on top of that; that poor Will hadn't shown an ounce of magical ability yet, and Molly worried the boy may not possess any of it. They generally agreed however, that it was too early to make that a definitive assumption, so they all held a little hope still.

Harry was pulled from his reflections by loud banging and strangled yells from upstairs.

MUUUUUUUUMMY! HE'S GOT ME!'

He laughed as Molly sighed in exasperation before extricating herself from the kitchen and making her way upstairs. Harry felt his hand being squeezed, so he turned and looked into the eyes of his girlfriend. Though he'd long ago decided _girlfriend_ wasn't a word he liked using to describe her, if only because it seemed to trivialize what she was to him. She was the love of his life, and even when they first started seeing one another he'd thought that the term girlfriend/boyfriend just didn't fit their relationship.

Harry rose from his seat. Care to go for a walk?'

Hermione rose after indicating _yes_, with a small nod, and they made their way out through the Weasley's yard and into the woods that harbored a spot the pair liked to relax at.

You okay? You looked a little put out when you showed up,' Harry commented.

Just my dad you know; I really worry about leaving him on his own like this. You've seen how he is around the house, especially since he lost the practice. You'd think the house would be cleaner if only because he doesn't do anything else with his time.'

Harry wasn't fond of the dejected tone her voice had taken on, though he understood. Mrs. Granger had died years before, and Hermione's dad handled it poorly, to say the least. He'd stopped going to work, and his office had gone under because of it; he now stayed at home and lived off television, and perhaps alcohol, Harry wasn't sure. Hermione had tried her hardest to help him when it happened, but he gave Harry the aura of a man who would rather remain broken.

That was a dark time for Hermione; somewhere inside, she'd blamed herself for the destruction of her home, though certain circumstances hadn't allowed her to entertain those thoughts for long. She still thought of her father as her responsibility, and Harry knew that having her move in with him would undoubtedly increase her family related stress, but he was sure her overall stress would lower, if only by not having to take care of her dad like she would a confused child.

As they approached a small clearing surrounded on every side by trees, decorated by a small clear pond that housed a family of bluebirds, Hermione sat down on the grass near the gently moving water, as a small breeze rustled through her hair. Harry sat behind her and let her lean into him, while he casually wrapped his arms around her.

You can't very well live there forever in hopes he picks himself up.' Harry added some time later, almost as an afterthought.

I know.'

Harry tightened his hold on her and kissed her gently on the head, taking her unsubstantial response as the need for silence. Hermione had become far less forceful over the years, the results of the war tainting her views on most everything. She'd always been an independent person, but ever since Voldemort had been defeated, she'd trusted less and less of herself to others. She trusted a few individuals unquestionably, but she never made any effort to become close with anyone new, which could be seen as good and bad for numerous reasons each, her chosen profession complicating if it was a positive or negative thing.

Hermione excelled beyond all expectations and had options beyond imagination when it came to a career (Though certain circumstances closed a few doors). After a years hiatus from schooling, namely in an attempt to help Harry with his Voldemort problem, she decided on a Healing position. The less said about the benefits of having a healer as a lover the better, but, she'd been in the position for three years now. The training for the job had taken a pair of years itself.

Harry, as had also been expected by most, was amongst the most sought individuals for work. He'd spent nearly three entire weeks sorting through mail for recruitment. Unfortunately for the lot of them, especially following Hogwarts, his Dark Lord problem still existed, and he wasn't willing to commit to anything when he may just die the next day. And even now, he didn't have a fulltime occupation; he hadn't needed the money, and for the longest time he couldn't commit in such a way. So for the last four years he'd been working as an on call Auror and Hit Wizard. He rarely worked more then three days a month, and spent most of his free time working out propositions Hermione had made for reform within the ministry. The two of them had become quite the pair of lobbyists.

Harry?'

He was pulled from his thoughts by the barely audible whisper of Hermione.

Yes?'

What… do you think of Will?'

Harry turned this question over in his head thoroughly, wondering why on earth she was asking his opinion on the youngest Weasley. He was an adorable kid, intelligent as all get out too, but somehow he wasn't convinced that was what she meant.

He's a cute kid, I'm glad we had the privilege of seeing him grow. It's hard imagining the Burrow without him; he's one of the family, as he should be.'

Did you… I mean… Did you ever consider having kids?'

Harry felt his stomach clench uncomfortably at that question. They'd discussed children in passing before, as friends would; but nothing with the deep meaning Hermione was asking this now. Assuming of course Harry hadn't completely misinterpreted the subtext in her voice, which he wasn't ashamed to admit _wouldn't _be a first.

I… Of course I'd considered it before… And I'd like my own someday… Absolutely…'

Harry was a little uncomfortable with the silence that followed; it seemed to him that Hermione was doing some serious thinking. About what, he couldn't be sure; but he was sure it was of dire importance with how tense she'd become. Harry placed his hand on her chin, tilting her head towards his so he could see her properly. Her eyes reminded him uncannily of a deer being caught in the headlights of a truck. Harry brushed his hand against her cheek then kissed her softly on her lips.

What is it?' he asked worriedly.

She turned her head slowly and stared at the lake for a minute in silence before wrapping her arms around herself and standing up. Its gotten pretty cold, we should go back'.

Harry stared with a raised eyebrow from the ground. He smirked and stood up, not wanting to put pressure on her in her current state. But he wasn't going to let it go completely, that would just be too tactful, and subsequently, not like him at all. But before he could make a crack about poor diversions and how the women in his life seemed to live and breathe them, a shrill scream rang through the trees.

Harry's neck cricked at the speed in which his head turned. The sound was faint, but still distinguishable as a bad sign. It sounded as if it came from the north, which would put the trouble close to the old Lovegood house. Harry looked to Hermione, and saw her nod assent, and without a word, the pair of them apparated moments later in front of a two story building, that was engulfed heavily in flames.

Thick smoke wafted around him - Harry thought to cough, but before he could do any such thing he heard shocked muttering from behind him. He turned and saw a large group of Muggles, huddled together pointing and whispering at him, no doubt in shock at his sudden appearance. Harry would have to deal with memory wipes later though. He turned back to the house and watched in dismay as Hermione ran through the front door.

Harry cast a shield charm on himself and ran quickly after Hermione; his chest noticeably constricted at the lack of oxygen, mere moments after entering the house. Harry looked to the left and right in hopes of locating Hermione, to no avail. He took large strides right, into the living space. Flames engulfed all portions of the wall and crept menacingly along the floor and ceiling - nothing looked moderately used within the room, so Harry moved next, through a large opening at the far end of the room and into the kitchen. The dining table that was located nearby housed an untouched meal and a tipped over chair directly beneath it. Harry clutched at his chest painfully and moved cautiously towards the table, when a scream, identical to the one he heard earlier, rang down the hallway, from upstairs. This provided Harry with his next destination. He stalked awkwardly from the kitchen and saw Hermione exit the living room at the same time - they must have walked in a circle together, around the main floor. She reached the stairs before Harry and climbed to the last step before stopping and covertly peering around the corner.

You go that way and check those two rooms; I'll check the three over there,' was all she had to say.

Harry nodded and watched Hermione take her immediate left and disappear into one of the rooms; Harry turned and entered the room immediately to his right. The smoke was much thicker in this enclosure then it had been elsewhere, and Harry coughed roughly and wiped tears from his eyes. He cleared his vision slightly, and immediately regretted it; there, lying motionless in the middle of the floor were two children, both looked about Will's age. Neither was burned, but both shared identical looks of horror on their face.

He walked slowly forward, conveniently forgetting the position he was in and kneeled in front of the young boy and girl. How many times had he walked in on something like this; he'd hoped ages ago that eventually the feeling of failure and blame would numb, but it didn't. He looked at the young girl and studied her features with his fingertips, passing over her eyes, past her cheek and eventually to her neck.

Harry then repeated the action on the young boy, closing their eyes and jaw, as if to help them pass along easier into whatever the afterlife offered. Harry felt his eyes burning from something completely unrelated to the smoke, so he rose quickly and spun around to something he'd hoped to never see again, a tall person in a black cloak, with a white mask covering the greater portion of his face. Harry urged to reach for his now pocketed wand, but realized he wouldn't have time to attack before getting hit himself.

Maybe you missed the memo, but that old snake Voldemort died a while ago.'

I recall the event thoroughly, thank you Mr. Potter.'

So that's what this is then, an attempt at luring me into your clutches, so you can kill me? Figured you lot would have learned by now.'

Harry hoped against hope that this was the only Deatheater in the house (Though it seemed ridiculous to think he would be that lucky), and that his verbal jousting would allow Hermione to sneak in and attack from behind. Harry's first urge, however, was to pound this man until his life flitted eagerly away from his body - Harry's anger was only repressible, because he knew he wouldn't be doing anyone a favor by getting himself killed. He also didn't recognize the voice of the person in question, nor the little appearance he could see; a frustrating thing to admit, given Kingsley would be needing as much information as possible.

As much as I love the charming banter, we simply determined the best way to gather you, was to separate you from any unnecessary obstructions. Actually,' and he said this quite superiorly as it stands, while you're wasting your time here… We have operatives attacking several other locations.'

DIFFINDO!' Harry caught the man off guard and watched him plummet to the ground, a huge gash in his chest, bleeding profusely. Harry didn't have time to deal with the man so he placed the full body bind on him, turned around and then hoisted the two children over his shoulders and ran back out into the hallway. Hermione had come running, apparently at the sound of his spell; she stared horrified at the Deatheater lying on the floor and the two lifeless children in his arms. Hermione listen, I need you to go to the Ministry and alert Kingsley immediately. I have to go back to the Burrow.'

Against his better judgment, Harry apparated away without another word, first, directly outside the burning house, where he laid down the two children softly upon the grass; and then, directly into the Burrow's living room. Suspiciously to Harry, the setting couldn't have been more different from where he'd come. The house appeared empty, and it was eerily quiet. All the lights had been turned off, but there was a distinct shuffling sound coming from several places around him. Harry heard a small creak from behind the sofa; he raised his wand to it and was about to hex it to pieces when a spell flew from his left, just nearly missing his head.

Oh jeeze, sorry Harry, you might not wanna lurk around dark corners like that.' George Weasley said. Oy Fred, its just Harry!'

Harry?' Fred asked, jumping out from behind the couch to Harry's right. Where's Mum? And Will?'

Harry felt a bit of panic rise in his chest. They weren't here, where could they have gone? Was there a sign of a struggle? Harry checked around the house without so much as answering Fred; though they seemed to sense the urgency, and helped him look around for anything out of the ordinary. After scouring most of the house, the three of them had made their way into the attic, and though they knew there wasn't going to be anyone to find, they looked thoroughly anyway.

He thought it slightly ominous that not even the ghoul seemed to be lurking in the shadows - Harry checked the last little corner of the attic and saw only a small jewelry box, sitting obviously in the middle of the floor. He heard one of the twins swear.

This is what we get huh - for being a couple hours late,' Fred muttered, staring out the attic window, out into the distance, where black clouds billowed into the otherwise clear blue sky.

Why would anyone ransack the house and take Mum and Will?' George asked.

Harry knew damn well whose fault it was, and why Molly and Will were missing, but before he even had the time to come up with some excuse, he heard several loud pops from downstairs. He encouraged the twins to continue their search, while he went down to greet the cavalry that he realized too late he didn't need. Only, as Harry probably should have expected at this point, the cavalry isn't what greeted him; instead there were a dozen masked figures standing in the living room, one of which was unmistakably the man he'd ran into at the old Lovegood house; given that his torso was still bleeding unhealthily.

Harry had eleven wands pointed directly at him, and he lowered his own in hopes of avoiding an impossible to win fight. The man Harry attacked stepped forward and addressed him in a holier then thou attitude that reminded him disgustingly of Draco Malfoy.

Mr. Potter… Consider this your warning. We can, and will easily succeed where we've failed in the past. If you ever wish to see the red headed filth alive again, you'll comply with all our masters' demands.'

Blackmail doesn't work with me thanks, and consider this _your_ warning… You don't want to get involved with me again. I -'

But before Harry could even follow up on his threat, the leading man gave a quick hand gesture, and eleven green spells flew in his direction, plastering every inch of his torso. Sucking the consciousness from him, Harry fell painfully to the floor, and was engulfed in blackness.


End file.
